Starving
by bleedforyou
Summary: Harry is trying to live his life as normally as possible, until a man shows up on his doorstep, lost and starving. Includes 10 Chapters. complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Starving  
><strong>Author:<strong>**bleedforyou1****  
><strong>**Pairing:**Harry/Draco  
><strong>Rating:<strong>NC-17 overall  
><strong>Beta:<strong>**vanessawolfie** and **wendypops**  
><strong>Summary:<strong>Harry is trying to live his life as normally as possible, until a man shows up on his doorstep, lost and starving.  
><strong>Warnings:<strong>Slash. Sex in later chapters. Flangst. Malnutrition, sorrow, grief.  
><strong>Note:<strong> Thank you to my wonderful betas for really helping with this story. I've been working on this story for a long time, and I really hope it works out, because it's really important to me :)

"_I know sometimes you feel like you don't fit in. And this world doesn't know what you have with-in…but when I look at you, I see something rare, a rose that can grow anywhere_…"

Harry sang aloud and very off-tune, using his wooden cooking spoon as a microphone and rocking his hips to the music that came out of his kitchen's radio.

"_And there's no one I know that can compare…What makes you different makes you beautiful-" _

He stopped abruptly when he heard the doorbell to Grimmauld Place ringing. He flicked the radio off immediately; embarrassed by the American ponce boy bands he secretly loved listening to. Oh gods, if it was Ron, he would laugh his arse off.

He dropped the spoon back into the tomato soup he was cooking and took off his plain white apron, heading towards the door. Since he had let Kreacher stay at Hogwarts, he was left to cooking and cleaning for himself.

_Who the hell is ringing my door at eight in the evening? _Harry thought to himself as he cautiously held his wand in one hand and wondered again why the door didn't have a peephole. He opened the door and felt his insides turn to jelly from shock.

"_Malfoy?_ Is that you?" He blurted out, staring at the figure standing on his porch.

He hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since the day the War ended, which was three years ago. Well actually, he _had_ seen a glimpse of him during the Death Eater Trials—when Harry had gone in and gave the memory that set both him and his mother free.

It had been a gruelling three-week trial, and he knew that Malfoy and Narcissa had both suffered greatly, by the looks on their faces. Lucius had been sent to Azkaban for fifteen years, but Harry didn't feel too bad about that one. He probably deserved worse.

"Potter," Malfoy whispered, stepping forward a bit and into the porch's light.

Harry gasped silently and his mouth fell open as he saw Malfoy in the dim lighting. His skin was so pale, it was almost translucent and he could see the spidery, blue veins underneath. His face looked hallow, almost unhealthy and pencil-thin as if he hadn't eaten in months. The thinness made his nose even more pointed and he had purple-ish circles under his eyes.

Harry couldn't even decide what was more shocking—that Malfoy's hair was no longer shiny and slick, but dirty and ragged, or that he was wearing_ Muggle_ clothes, a simple v-neck white t-shirt and a pair of dirty, ripped-up jeans. He had a small brown rucksack slipped over his shoulders and the straps were loose on his narrow frame.

"Malfoy what the hell_ happened_ to you? And what are you _doing_ here?" Harry asked, still in shock from what he was seeing. He couldn't believe that his childhood rival was standing on his porch and looking so…pitiful.

"Potter, during the… you had… my wand," Malfoy said so softly that he could barely hear him, and pausing as if it took too much effort to talk. "I—I need it back."

Never in his life had he ever expected _Malfoy_ like this. Harry was visited with a strange urge to laugh at how unbelievable it was, but he quickly squished the urge down.

"Um… I don't know where it is; I think it might be in my old Hogwarts trunk or something…" Harry was now mumbling. He honestly did feel a bit guilty that he had never even _thought_ about Malfoy or his wand since the War.

"If you could… find it… that would be good. I really need it…" Malfoy was practically whispering now, and Harry noticed he was shivering.

He immediately realized that it was the middle of November, and that Malfoy must've been freezing outside. It was even supposed to snow tonight, and yet the Malfoy heir was standing there with nothing but a flimsy shirt on. Something broke inside Harry and he cursed his inner desire to help everyone.

"Here, come in. You can warm up while I look for it," Harry said, opening the door fully and moving to the side to allow Malfoy in.

"N—No. I can't. I have to… I need a wand. My mother, she's… I just want my wand back." Malfoy was nearly incoherent with his rambling now, and his bony arms were wrapping around his shivering body.

"Okay, Malfoy, I'll get your wand, but just… come inside. It might take me a while to find it, and I don't want you dying on my porch of frostbite or something." Harry tried to crack a joke but it was strangely torn from his throat in the silent wintery air.

"I...uh—okay," Malfoy said, his teeth chattering. He shuffled inside, his thin form passing Harry's and awkwardly standing in the foyer. Harry silently cast another warming charm around the house, hoping that some of the blue tinge in Malfoy's skin would fade away.

"Er… the living room is this way," Harry said, leading Malfoy into the room and gesturing to the large couch that sat against the wall.

He watched as Malfoy put his rucksack down and sat in the very edge of the couch. He crossed his ankles and placed his trembling hands on his lap, his shoulders still shaking slightly from the cold.

_Still just as graceful_, Harry thought wryly, remembering the Hogwarts' days of watching Malfoy's elegant form walk through the corridors.

"It smells like tomatoes. And garlic." Malfoy stated, breaking the silence.

"Huh? Oh! Crap, the soup!" Harry hurried back into the kitchen and turned the stove off, setting the large pot aside. It thankfully hadn't boiled over.

"You…cook?"

Harry swiveled around and saw that Malfoy had followed him into the kitchen, stealthy and silent. He was standing gingerly next to the doorway and staring at the pot of soup. Again, Harry was struck by how _skinny_ he was. _Of course,_ he thought, _Malfoy was always thin—most seekers are—but this is just ridiculous!_

"Yeah, I cook pretty well actually. I kind of have to these days," Harry chuckled slightly. He stirred the pot and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Malfoy was watching. A façade of politeness reigned on his face, but Harry could see the hunger in his pale grey eyes. "You can have some. I always cook way too much for just myself anyway."

"I… Why just yourself? Where is Weasley's sister?" He said, looking around the house as if expecting her to jump out. Harry was surprised Malfoy hadn't called her names, such as Weaselette or Ginger, the way he had back at Hogwarts.

"Well, Ginny and I broke up a year ago. She was travelling too much for Quidditch and then we just started arguing a lot too…but, I mean, we're still good friends…"

"Oh. I'm…" Draco paused and finally looked away from the soup and towards Harry. "My wand?"

"Oh right, yeah—it's probably upstairs. Make yourself at… er, I'll be right back," Harry muttered uneasily.

He took the stairs two at a time and when he entered his bedroom—Sirius' old room—he paused for a moment before diving into his closet to look through his old stuff.

While rummaging between everything, Harry couldn't help but be completely bewildered by his current situation. _Malfoy _was downstairs, being polite and _weird_, plus Harry had gone and lost the poor bloke's wand.

Questions raced through his mind like a whirlwind—where was Narcissa? Why couldn't Malfoy just purchase a new wand between the THREE years that had passed since the War? Where were they living?

He had read in the newspapers that the Malfoy Manor had been taken by the Ministry for War reparations, but honestly, he had always thought that the family still probably had piles of galleons in Gringotts, since it was such an old and ancient blood line. The ministry couldn't have taken all of it, could they?

_Apparently they aren't so rich, if Malfoy's in a t-shirt and jeans in the middle of winter. What's with the Muggle clothing, anyway?_ Harry thought nervously.

After a few minutes of digging around in his closet, his hand gripped a wooden stick underneath a pile of clothes—the clothes he had been wearing the day he finally ended Tom Riddle—and he pulled it out with a victorious grin. He squished everything back in the closet and jogged back downstairs.

"Found it! Sorry, it was actually stuck at the bottom of my—Malfoy?" He had walked into the living room and came to an abrupt halt.

Malfoy was lying on the floor next to the sofa as if he had slid off and appeared to be asleep. Harry rushed over to his side and looked over him, lost as to what he should do.

"Malfoy? Wake up!" He reached out and for the first time actually touched Malfoy, shaking his shoulder lightly.

_Please don't be dead, please don't be dead! _Harry thought frantically as he laid his ear against Malfoy's chest. He was still breathing, but his stomach was growling ferociously.

"Oh bloody hell!" Harry gasped, staring down at the once so spoiled and regal Draco Malfoy. He had just fainted from starvation in Harry's living room.

Harry rushed over to the sink and grabbed a clean towel, making it damp and then ran back to Malfoy, kneeling next to him. He lightly patted the soaked towel to Malfoy's face as he silently prayed for the git to wake up.

"Ungh," Malfoy grunted all of a sudden and blinked his eyes open. He looked up at Harry, who sighed in relief and stared down at those stormy grey eyes.

"Wha—oh. Potter. I… I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired—had a late night the other day—"

Once Harry got over the shock of Malfoy actually _apologizing _for something, let alone for fainting from malnutrition, he interrupted him.

"Yeah right, like I'm going to believe that rubbish! Malfoy, what the hell… how long has it been since you've eaten anything?" Harry exclaimed, staring at the man as he pushed himself up slowly and leaned against the couch.

Malfoy mumbled something and was looking everywhere but Harry.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"A few days, okay? Look, it's not… your bloody business. Give me my… wand so I can just… go," Malfoy was still speaking in pauses, and Harry realized that it was because of how weak and disoriented he was.

"I'll give you your wand in a minute. Just come eat something, all right?" He tried to help Malfoy stand up, but the man just knocked his hand away and tried to grab his wand.

Harry kept it out of his reach and put it in his back pocket, glaring at Malfoy.

"Give me… my wand! You have no right—"

"Just shut up and quit being so stubborn for once!" He pulled on Malfoy's arms and stood up, amazed at how _light_ he was.

"Don't… need your help! I don't want your help!" He stared at Harry with a crazed look in his eye, and he was gasping slightly with the effort of fighting Harry. "I want to leave with my wand!"

"Okay! Fine! Where are you going to go?"

"Not your business, stupid Potter," he grumbled, trying to reach for his wand.

Harry moved away quickly and steered Malfoy into the kitchen. Once he had drawn out a chair for him at the dining table, he pressed down on Malfoy's shoulders to make him sit.

"Just eat something, and then I'll give you your wand back, okay?"

He walked to the kitchen, and for the first time in _so_ long he set the table for two people. He did take care of Teddy on the weekends when Andromeda was out, but Teddy sat in the highchair; and when Hermione and Ron would visit, they always sat with him in the living room. Since Ginny had left, Harry had been cooking and eating dinner by himself, usually eating on the sofa while watching porn or other stupid movies.

Once he put the plate of food in front of his _guest_, Malfoy simply shook his head and glared at him, pushing the plate away.

"My wand."

"Malfoy. I know you're hungry. Just freakin' eat it, or I'll force feed you. Don't think I won't," Harry warned, pushing the plate back towards him.

"You wouldn't _dare_," Malfoy suddenly sneered at him and Harry grinned.

"There's that arrogant sneer I've been waiting for. Malfoy is back, ladies and gentlemen."

"Your stupidity is still astounding, Potter," Malfoy rolled his eyes. But Harry watched as he carefully bit his lip before picking up his spoon and taking a sip of the soup. He closed his eyes as if mesmerized by the taste.

"Come on Malfoy, I know I'm a good cook. Eat up," Harry said, picking up his platter and messily taking a sip from the bowl on purpose, like he did sometimes to make Teddy eat.

All of a sudden, Harry's mouth fell open again in surprise as he watched Malfoy pick up the bowl and lock his lips to it, guzzling down the soup in huge gulps. His Adam's apple bobbed as he sucked the food down—he must have been _starving _if he was ready to lose that much control in front of his former enemy. Once he was done with the bowl, he chewed on the bread as if it were his last meal.

Harry watched quietly and ate his own dinner while Malfoy took more soup from the bowl, and calmed down somewhat, now patting his face with a napkin delicately, ever the elegant Malfoy.

"Aren't you going to ask how I knew where you lived?" Malfoy suddenly asked, staring at Harry with those bright gray eyes.

Harry had actually not even thought about that at all. He was too busy thinking about how the food had brought a light flush back into Malfoy's pale cheeks.

"Uh… yeah. How?"

"Well. You should tell your decorator to take better care of her secrets," Malfoy sniffed, nibbling on a piece of bread.

"Luna told you?"

A few years ago, Luna had randomly asked to see Grimmauld Place. He and Ginny were leaving in a small flat down the street from the Ministry, and after a cup of tea, Luna asked very politely if she could re-decorate the house because she wanted to try her hand at decorating.

Ginny had nearly refused, but Harry thought it would be fun to see what Luna would come up with, so he gave her the key. After three weeks, both Ginny and he were amazed at what she had done.

Grimmauld Place was no longer the disgusting and creepy place it had been before. It was now bright and had an almost relaxed atmosphere, with certain wall-paintings that only Luna Lovegood could paint. Harry's favourite part was the huge mural on the ceiling of the living room, of Hogwarts before the War. It felt like he had a bit of home to bring with him.

"Yes. I saw her briefly…three or four months ago, in that…coffee shop. I didn't expect to see her there, let alone actually talk to her. I suppose she's not as crazy as everyone makes her out to be…She's just odd. While we were talking, she told me that she decorated Grimmauld Place, which was no longer a secret because the… Death Eaters," he said the words with difficulty. "They broke the seal."

"Yeah, they did. I have my own wards up, and it'll alert me if someone has malicious intent within 50 yards. Wow, so you and Luna actually had a civilized conversation?"

Malfoy nodded but simply stared off into the distance. During the silence that followed, Harry quickly sent the dishes to the sink with a wave of his own wand and set a washing and drying charm on them.

"I'd like my wand back now."

"Here," Harry sighed, handing the wand back. He watched as Malfoy stroked it and held it close, as if it were a child.

"I've been using my mother's wand for the past three years. I forgot what having my own wand felt like," he murmured. "I couldn't…purchase a new one, unfortunately. The wand makers wouldn't make them for…people like me."

"Where is your mother, Malfoy?" Harry asked carefully.

"She… she died. Two months ago. It was a quiet funeral. Just me and her actually. They didn't let Father out of Azkaban to come," he said softly, staring off into the distance with a glazed look in his eye.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Malfoy. I know that she meant a lot to you," Harry muttered.

He should honestly—as Hermione was always saying—pay more attention to the news. He had stopped reading a few months ago when he was caught by the paparazzi outside a gay wizard bar in London. Since then, he knew the press would've gone crazy, so he didn't bother reading the newspapers.

That explained it—why Malfoy was being nice and almost child-like. He was so alone in the world, without his parents, and most of his friends were probably either in Azkaban or worse, and now he had nothing left.

Numb…like Harry had been after losing so many in the War.

"She was… my favourite person in the world. Good witch. Good mother. I have to…go now." He stood up slowly, walking to the living room and grabbing his dirty rucksack from the couch.

"Where are you going? Do you have a place to stay?" Harry said quickly, standing up as well.

"I think so. I'll figure something out. I stayed at a Muggle farm last night. I might have a few of those Muggle paper money things left. Nice people," he said, turning towards the door.

_Did Malfoy just call _Muggles_ nice people? _Harry's mind was reeling.

"Malfoy, wait," Harry said, blocking his way. "Stay here. It's fine, I have plenty of room and I live alone anyway."

"No. I can't. You—you're Harry Potter."

"What? I would think you were the last person to care about my name, Malfoy. You always acted as if I was nothing but scum, and now you're saying my name like you care."

"You're not scum. You saved my life. I'm just…tired. I'm going to the farm."

"No, you're not. If you're so tired, then you won't mind staying here. I'll set up the guest bedroom, all right?"

"I can't, okay? You're just being nice because you're the Saviour and it's like your job."

That was when Harry's temper boiled over.

"I don't have a bloody job! I'm not an Auror! In fact, I'm nothing. I'm a stay-at-home gay bloke, who does nothing but sit around all day, wondering what happened to all my dreams and aspirations. So you're going to stay here because I am _not_ going to send you out in the middle of winter wearing _that_."

"I like this shirt. And these jeans," Malfoy muttered, his index finger and thumb pinching the sleeve of his T-shirt. "And you're not nothing. I read in the paper that you were playing seeker for the…um…oh, what was it… the Cannons?"

"Yeah," Harry snorted. "That's so I can keep my mind busy. I purposefully chose a loser team so that I wouldn't have to worry about actually working towards anything."

"That's sad."

Harry laughed at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is sad. Come on, I'll take you to your room."

Malfoy followed him up the stairs, but he was going extremely slowly. He was probably still very weak after not eating for so long. Harry wondered where he had been sleeping and living.

"Here, this one should be all right. It's got your own bathroom and everything. Might want to be careful with the bookshelf though, Hermione keeps her Dark Arts books in here for research, I believe," Harry said, gesturing towards the tall bookshelf in the corner.

"I'll go get some pyjamas for you," Harry said, crossing the hall to his own room. He came back with some sweats in his hand and handed them to Malfoy.

"I'm pretty sure those will fit you, but they'll be pretty loose. You've become pretty skinny… anyway, if you need anything, my room's right there down the hall."

He watched as Malfoy made his way into the room and dropped his small bag onto the floor. It was almost as if he were scared of the place, the way he was staring at everything.

"Thank you," he said after some time. "For letting me stay. Plus the food… and for saving my life that day. I never thanked you for that."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. "It's okay. I mean, you saved my life too—at the Manor, when you told them you didn't know me. I never thanked you for that either."

It was quiet for a while and just as Harry was about to say good night, Malfoy spoke.

"Are you going to sleep now?"

"Uh, well, it's kind of early still. I was going to sit down with a movie or something…" Harry said, blushing again.

He had actually ordered a few DVDs over the internet, some porn to keep himself company on lonely weeknights when his friends were busy with work and life, and Teddy was with Andromeda.

He didn't need to feel so guilty about it anyway. It wasn't like he was getting any in real life. After he came out in public, it seemed that every gay man decided that he wanted Harry Potter, and so Harry had simply been way too freaked out to try and date any of them.

The last time he'd got laid… Oh, it gave Harry a headache to even think about it, and it was five months ago. He had been drunk at Seamus' bachelor party and the bartender happened to be very cute, and one thing led to another. Unfortunately, the bartender turned out to already have a boyfriend, and Harry was _not _going through any kind of drama like that.

"A movie? You mean, to put in that Muggle picture box in your living room?" Malfoy seemed interested, tilting his head to the side like a curious cat.

_I should most definitely NOT find the curve of his neck even slightly appealing_, Harry thought. _But I do_.

"Yeah. Do you want to come down to watch with me?"

Harry thought of the list of _appropriate_ DVDs he did own, and tried to think of something Malfoy would enjoy.

"Oh. No, it's okay. I'm tired. Going to sleep," he said softly, turning abruptly and going into the bathroom.

"Okay. Goodnight!" Harry yelled through the door.

He heard a soft "goodnight" back and smiled slightly. He supposed he could tolerate this kind of Malfoy. At least he wasn't being ignorant and arsehole-ish like back in school. He could still detect some sarcasm and wit, but it was obviously buried underneath the man's pain and recent loss.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry wandered down the stairs, closing lights on his way. He realized that he probably shouldn't be watching gay porn when Malfoy was right upstairs, so he settled on the couch and flicked through the telly until some random movie with a good-looking man was coming.

It was an older, football chick-flick called "Bend it like Beckham". He stretched out across the couch with the pillow under his head and watched the hot Muggle coach play football.

Harry had been half-asleep by the time he heard a shuffling sound in the doorway of the living room. He sat up and turned on the lights, blinking at where the noise had come from.

Malfoy was standing with his arms around himself and biting down on his bottom lip. He had obviously taken a shower and now his hair was back to its shiny softness, though it was still damp and it was longer now as well, curling at the ends around his jawline.

Harry swallowed thickly as his eyes raked down Malfoy's body. Yes, he was unnervingly skinny, but his Quidditch muscles made him look lean underneath Harry's pyjamas. They were really baggy on him, so Malfoy had the drawstring stretched tight against his flat belly that was peeking out from under the plain green T-shirt.

_When the hell did he get so attractive?_ Harry thought in a panic.

"I can't…sleep. It's very quiet in that room," Malfoy mumbled, walking over to Harry and sitting down on the couch, only arm's length away from him.

Harry was surprised at this, but said nothing about it, opting to sit back and try to relax. This proved very difficult when a good-looking blonde was sitting next to you.

_He just fainted from starvation, and you're getting randy? Come on, Harry. _He berated himself.

"Yeah, the quiet bothers me too some nights. Wanna watch?"

"How does the sound come out of the box? And how do they get colours in it?" He asked, leaning back as well. He was still a good foot or so away on the couch, but Harry could practically feel the heat between them.

"Well, it's called technology. Little chips of information are in there that tells each part what to do. It works off of something called electricity."

"I know what electricity is… it makes those phonys work, right?"

"Phones. Right. How did you know?"

"After the trials, mother and I went into hiding with the Muggles."

"Oh. What happened? If you don't mind me asking," he hastily added.

"We were shunned by practically everyone and most of our friends were either dead or in hiding as well. We took what we could and went to the Muggle part of London. After a few months of observations, we started to learn some things, but not enough. Mother still had one of the Black family accounts so we were okay for a while. But about a year ago, when she became sick, I started to panic, so I went to St. Mungo's with her, and they refused to help her, and they actually almost ran after us because apparently we deserved more punishment.

I took care of her for a few months, but she needed extra help. I got a Muggle healer… a doctor… to look at her, and he was nice. We converted some galleons into Muggle money, but it wasn't much. We'd been staying at small inns for a while before mother became really sick, and the doctor couldn't help her anymore.

When she died, all of the Malfoy and Black accounts were locked from me and it is family tradition to bury the wand with the owner, so I didn't even have a wand left… I remembered what Luna told me about you, and I thought that if I could just get my wand back, I could maybe go out of the country and try to find a job somewhere…"

When Malfoy finished, he leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. Harry stared at him, gaping. He couldn't believe those things had happened to him, and how broken he seemed to be now. Honestly, as big of a prat as he was back in school, Harry had thought that even if he had gone broke, he would've simply stolen the money or done something else illegal. Wasn't that what all ex-Death Eaters did?

With the thought, he looked down at Malfoy's arm and was surprised that the Dark Mark was practically gone by now, which is why he hadn't noticed it first. There was only a slight glimmer of the tattoo that had once been there.

"Malfoy, I had no idea…I'm sorry those things happened to you, I don't think you deserve all of that," he said, deciding to take a risk and put his arm around his thin body. He felt the man shiver slightly and he bit his lip nervously.

"Draco, listen to me," Harry said, surprising himself by the use of Malfoy's first name. "You can stay here as long as you need to. I'll talk to some people; we'll get you a job."

"Stop," was the muffled reply. He raised his head and looked over at Harry, staring directly in his eyes this time. "You're being nice even though you hate me. Don't pity me."

"I don't hate you," Harry snorted. "I don't think I actually _hate _anyone other than Voldemort. And perhaps Umbridge."

He watched as Draco cringed at the name of the Dark Lord, but he remained silent.

"And I also don't pity you. I've been in worse situations, and I know what it's like. It's not pity, its understanding. And I want to understand you."

"_Why?_ I did nothing but taunt and tease you at school. I was the world's biggest arse, and I deserve everything I'm getting."

"But now that you see that, you don't deserve it anymore. You're not like that anymore. I've been with you for less than two hours and I can already see it. You've changed. For the better."

There was silence for a few moments, and Harry realized that he still had his arm around Draco, and now they were both sitting against the couch, with him practically cuddling with _Draco Malfoy_. And more, Draco was actually _allowing _it.

"You've changed too. I don't know if it's for better or worse."

They looked at each other and broke out in laughter, relieving the tension around them.

Sitting like that, in the living room of his house, with his arm around soft shoulders…Harry didn't think about anything else. He didn't think about Ron dying in shock or about how apparently he needed to have a serious talk with the Minister about how St. Mungo's dealt with their patients.

He didn't think about anything but how good Draco smelled after the shower, and about how nice it felt to watch some dumb movie with him and answer his questions about _everything_. He didn't know how curious Draco was until now.

"Why are they playing with only one ball?"

"It's called football or soccer if you're American."

"What's a 'mall'?"

"It's like this big shopping place. Like Diagon Alley, but all in one building."

"Who is this Beckham person they keep talking about?"

"He's a famous football player. Plays for England, actually. Real good-looking bloke."

"I saw it in the papers, but…when did you really find out you were gay?"

That one made Harry choke slightly. He pulled his arm back and stared at the screen, but he knew Draco was watching him closely.

"Er, it was kind of at the back of my mind for a few years, but I didn't really explore it until after Ginny and I broke up. It just…worked, I guess."

"Oh. What's it like?"

And that question made him downright queasy. He shouldn't be talking about sex with Draco—especially not right now, when he was already attracted to the man.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "It's… good, I guess. I've only done it a few times actually, so I'm not much of an expert."

"_That's_ not a surprise," Draco laughed playfully, and Harry couldn't help but enjoy his soft, tinkling laugh. Even though he didn't enjoy the insult.

"Oh yeah, what about you, then?" He challenged, watching as Draco rolled his eyes.

"Like I'm telling you about my sex life, Potter," he said, now staring at the screen. Harry watched him as he started to blush.

"Oh Merlin…seriously? You're a _virgin_?"

"What? No, I never said that!"

"Damn! I never thought _I'd _lose my virginity before you!"

"Shut up, Potter. Just because I'm not a slut like you, doesn't mean I'm a virgin. I'm not."

"I'm not a slut. And you _are_ a virgin. Admit it."

"I will do no such thing."

"Oh come on, just say it. I won't laugh, I promise."

"It's not true! I've had plenty of… experience."

"Ha! Come on, we've said everything else, might as well say this too," Harry poked him in the shoulder.

"Fine! Blimey, you're so annoying! I'm not a virgin, but I've only had sex once. With Blaise. And it was…" Draco shuddered. "It was bad."

"It was _bad_? But Zabini isn't that bad-looking. What happened?"

"I didn't tell him it was my first time," Draco admitted in a soft voice. "So he was rough and it was scary and it hurt like hell."

"Oh. Draco… now I feel like a jerk. Sorry," Harry frowned, putting his arm back around Draco.

"It's not a big deal. I haven't had a lot of time to think about it anyway, it was the end of 5th year, right before all the craziness with… well, you know."

"Wait, you had your first time when you were only 15? That _must've _hurt."

"Well," Draco shrugged. "It was just an experiment. Of course, I had a hunch that I didn't particularly like girls since 3rd year, but I wasn't sure. Blaise was mostly a dickhead anyway. That's what you get for being in Slytherin."

"There are plenty of guys out there… ones that will take better care of you than Zabini did."

"Oh yeah? Like who?"

Harry paused for a moment, shocked by how easy it was to _flirt_ with Draco.

"Like me," he whispered.

"Potter…"

"It's Harry," he said, then leaned down impulsively, as if he were attached to a magnet.

"I think I'm going to go sleep now," Draco suddenly said, standing up so rapidly that Harry ended up practically kissing the couch.

"Draco?" He looked towards the hallway, but he was already gone.

"Goodnight!" He heard from the stairs, followed by light footsteps above him.

He couldn't believe he just tried to kiss Draco. And that he got rejected.


	3. Chapter 3

"Harry, I just don't know if it's a good idea…" Hermione was saying as she stirred her tea almost meticulously.

The morning light had woken Harry up from his fitful sleep, and when had checked in Draco's room, he had found the man sleeping like a baby. After making some tea, he had Floo-called Hermione in to ask her advice, as he usually did when he was in a spot of trouble.

Harry walked over to the couch with his own tea in hand, sitting next to his old friend. He watched as she fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger as was her habit. She may have been married for two years, but she was still just as much of a worry-wart as always.

"Hermione," he said gently, putting his hand over hers. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

"You were always so…different around him, back at Hogwarts. He brings out a side of you that I just don't understand," she whispered, as if the man upstairs could hear her.

"That's odd phrasing," he smirked. "Look, I'm not saying he's not the same guy, it's just that… he doesn't act the same. I think that after everything he's been through for the last three years…I dunno, I just think it's changed him. In a good way."

"But enough as to you keeping him here? What if he really hasn't changed?" Hermione said, her eyebrow rising in doubt.

"You know I have a habit of trusting my gut," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. He took a gulp of tea before continuing. "I think he deserves a second chance."

"Oh, I just don't know," Hermione said fretfully. "I'd take precaution. You never know with a Malfoy."

"Now you sound like Ron," Harry laughed. "Oh, speaking of Ron…I called you over from work so that he wouldn't you know…find out. Not that it's a huge secret or anything—I just think Malfoy needs some space before Ron comes crashing in and accusing him of kicking crups."

"Ron wouldn't do that," she said crossly. "He'd just say the same thing I'm saying—you need to be careful. A few years of hunger won't erase an entire childhood of bigotry."

"Merlin, you sound like a psychologist." He rolled his eyes. "I can handle him—he could barely walk last night from weakness."

"Well…if you're sure. And if he's really that weak, you should take him to the hospital. He might be sick—"

"I was thinking about that earlier—do you really think it was fair of St. Mungo's to say no to Narcissa just because of her name? She was dying. That sounds a lot like prejudice, and it just doesn't sit right with me." Harry shook his head, contemplating when to set a meeting with Shacklebolt.

"Perhaps for now, instead of charging in and demanding change, you should take him to a different hospital. I know one on the outskirts of London that would probably take him…"

"Here, can you write down the name? I'll take him later today—"

"Take me where?"

Harry looked up at Draco's accusing question, and watched as the man crossed his arms and glared at them, all haughty and snobbish again. He had changed back into his shirt and jeans that he was wearing yesterday and Harry sighed, standing up.

"We were just talking about taking you to a hospital—"

"I'm not going anywhere. With either of you. I'm leaving anyway; I have things to do, people to see…" Draco trailed off, walking back towards the stairs.

"Wait, Draco, hold on." Harry shot Hermione a look and she nodded gently, standing up as well.

"I have to go back to work, bye Malfoy! It's nice to see you again!" She said with a slight sarcastic tone in her voice.

Giving Harry a peck on the cheek, she headed towards the Floo. When it sent her back to the Ministry's Law Enforcement Office, Harry turned and headed upstairs.

"Draco?" He called out, and then stopped at the guest bedroom's doorway, watching as Draco pulled his small rucksack's strings closed. There was a small tug in Harry's heart as he saw what little possessions the man had left.

"I don't need a hospital. I don't need anything. Thanks for the dinner and room, but I really have to go now—" Malfoy was saying as he picked up his wand from the bedside table.

"Draco, stop for a second and listen to me." Harry went in and put his hand on the man's shoulder. He winced when his hand was shrugged off.

"No. Stay away from me, Potter."

"Why are you doing this? Last night, you were…You can stay, I told you—I'll help you get a job," Harry said, softness curling around his voice almost unintentionally.

"I don't need your help," Malfoy snarled at him through clenched teeth.

He pushed past Harry and went downstairs, into the foyer. Harry followed him, unable to shake the slight hurt caused by Malfoy's harsh tone.

"I can't force you to stay," Harry said bitterly. "But if it means anything…I really want you to."

He watched as Malfoy turned away from the door to face him, incredulity on his pointed face. Then, the façade of politeness dropped back in and he shook his head.

"Can't. Bye," he said abruptly, opening the door and walking out. Harry watched as he walked a few steps and then stopped. He turned to look at Harry once more before biting his lip and Apparating away.

Harry blinked back a strange wetness in his eyes and slammed the door shut. _Why the bloody fuck am I tearing up over that jerk? _Harry thought angrily. _This is what I get for being a good person._


	4. Chapter 4

It had been three weeks since the day of Malfoy's abrupt departure, and Harry was getting back to normal. Well, pretty much normal. He still had the strange thoughts of blonde hair and glimpses of grey eyes in his dreams, but they were brief and gone in the next moment.

"Oh come on, Teddy bear, stop flinging that around!" Harry sighed, watching his godson. He gently took the plastic spoon away from the toddler, setting it down. "You know better than that."

"Hawy. You took my spoon. I'm eating! You took my gween spoon," the child said crossly, his tiny fist shaking at Harry. He was still having trouble saying the 'r's in the middle of the words, but other than that, the boy was very smart for his age.

"Yes, I took your green spoon because you threw applesauce at my face," Harry smiled at him, using a napkin to wipe said applesauce from his cheek. "I'll give it back to you if you promise not to do that anymore."

The boy went quiet for a few seconds, as he contemplated the proposition.

"'Kay. I won't. Pwomise. Can I have my gween spoon back?" The boy asked, his brown eyes going wide.

"Yes, you may," Harry laughed, handing the spoon back and going back to his own lunch. The spinach ravioli had actually turned out better than he thought, considering he messed up the recipe.

"Hawy? I'm sleeping over tonight," the boy said in a rather matter-of-fact voice. "Just so you know."

Harry snorted out loud and laughed as he shook his head at his godson's antics. Merlin, he loved hanging out with Teddy on the weekends. Andromeda had a chance to take some time off, and Harry got to enjoy the enthralling conversations that he and the three year old had.

"I'm glad you're letting me know, Teddy. It's a good thing I set up your room, huh?"

"Yup-yup. Good thing," he nodded seriously. Harry laughed some more, unable to help the giddy feeling of being around Teddy.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Harry looked up, curious.

"Doorbell!" Teddy announced, trying to get out of his high chair. Applesauce dripped off his chin and was smeared on his hands.

"Teddy, wait a moment, would you?"

Harry struggled as he pulled Teddy out of his chair and put him on his hip, walking towards the door. It was only noon, so perhaps Andromeda had forgotten something from this morning when she dropped off Teddy.

"Open, open, open!" Teddy reached for the door excitedly.

"I am, I am!" Harry chuckled, checking through the peephole that he got installed last week.

Harry gasped at the sight, almost losing his grip on Teddy. He wrenched open the door and blinked, a strange sense of déjà vu appearing as he stared at the man on his front porch.

"Hello!" Teddy cheered, bouncing in the crook of Harry's arm. Harry pulled him onto the other hip and continued staring.

"Malfoy," he swallowed.

He looked nearly the same as three weeks ago, a bit less thin, and wearing a black jumper at least, which was only slightly better than that white t-shirt he had worn last time. He looked up from the floor straight into Harry's eyes, and damn it all if Harry didn't feel the same tug in his heart as the morning Draco had left.

"Potter," the man said softly. He paused, staring at Harry, before continuing in a sort of ramble. "You're looking well. I came to apologise. I didn't…I shouldn't have just left like that."

"You came to apologize?" Harry said incredulity in his voice. "After three weeks of me worrying where you were? If you were okay, and not dead from starvation or frostbite? Thanks, Malfoy. Apology not accepted."

Draco shook his blonde hair out of his eyes and Harry saw the small snowflakes settle on his shoulders and melt away. Harry was so confused by the pain in his chest—why did it hurt to think of Draco cold? Hungry? Why did he care so much?

"I was being stubborn and I didn't want you to pity me. I hate pity—and worse, seeing you care like that, and knowing I had nothing to give back."

"Draco…" Harry tried to swallow again, but there was something stuck in his throat. "I don't need anything back. I was just…I was worried."

"I know, I'm sorry for that—you're so…good. And I'm not," he bit his lip again and Harry wondered where that habit had come from. It seemed so un-Malfoy-like.

"Hawy!" Teddy suddenly started struggling again, probably feeling ignored by his godfather. Harry turned to him and blinked in surprise at Teddy's bright blonde hair. He knew that the boy normally changed his hair to match a new person he met, but Harry was so used to seeing it his own shade of black like it usually was when Teddy was with him.

He faced Draco again and watched as the man stared wide-eyed at Teddy as if he'd never seen a child up-close before.

"Come in," Harry sighed, stepping inside as he felt the cold sweep in. Draco seemed to hesitate, and Harry glared at him. "Don't even start arguing with me."

The corners of Draco's lips turned up and he nodded, walking in. Harry noticed he was still wearing the same tattered brown rucksack and he closed the door behind him, watching the man's backside as he went into the living room.

"Who's that?" Teddy whispered into Harry's ear.

"That, Teddy bear, is your cousin Draco," Harry sighed, taking Teddy back into the kitchen. He grabbed a wet towel and swiped the remaining applesauce from the boy's face and hands. "Why don't you go and introduce yourself? Show off those manners Nana taught you."

"Okay," the boy said, shuffling over to the couch.

Draco sat there stiffly, his eyes darting between Harry and Teddy. Harry smirked and walked over to them, biting down a laugh when Teddy pulled at his hand nervously, half-hiding behind Harry's legs. He was normally very loud and talkative, but as many kids were, he was shy around new people.

"Hi." Teddy waved at Draco. "My name is Teddy Lupin."

"It's nice to meet you, Teddy," Draco said softly, looking up at Harry, almost with the same nervousness as his younger cousin. Harry nodded encouragingly and sat down on the couch next to him, pulling Teddy into his lap.

"Er, how old are you?" Draco asked, turning to face them.

"I'm three," Teddy said as he held up three fingers. "How old are you?"

Harry chuckled as Draco blinked at the question in surprise.

"I'm 21," Draco replied.

"Wow, you're old. Like Hawy. That's okay." Teddy shrugged. Draco's eyebrows rose in amusement and Harry laughed again. "What's your favowite color?"

"Um," Draco paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "Green."

"Mine too!" Teddy suddenly shrieked. He jumped off Harry's lap and ran to the kitchen.

"Ever the Slytherin," Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

"Shut up, Potter."

Teddy came back in the room, his blonde hair rapidly changing into a shocking green that matched the large, stuffed dragon in his arms.

"This is Lenny. He's my dragon. You can hold him if you want," Teddy said, standing next to Draco and putting the dragon into his hands. Draco held the dragon gently and looked up at the boy's hair.

"Hawy got him for me last Christmas. He's gween. He doesn't really have fire, so don't worry. Do you like dragons?"

"Actually, I love dragons. Did you know, my name, 'Draco', really means 'Dragon'?"

Teddy gasped in excitement and climbed into Draco's lap, holding Lenny in his arms. "Really? That's the coolest! I wish my name was Draco!"

Draco was stiff and awkward with Teddy in his lap, and Harry was about to pull Teddy off when suddenly Draco patted Teddy on the head awkwardly. Harry's heart thudded almost painfully at the gesture—Draco was trying, and when they sat so close to each other, he could almost see the family resemblance—the same high cheekbones and pale skin.

"He's a Metamorphmagus?" Draco asked Harry, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, like his mum," Harry replied.

Draco was silent for a while, listening to Teddy talk about Lenny and dragons, and everything else under the sun. Once Teddy got into one of his rants, you couldn't stop the boy from talking.

"I'm sleeping over at Hawy's. Are you sleeping over too?"

Draco looked up at Harry suddenly and their eyes met. Harry bit the inside of his cheek and raised an eyebrow, silently asking the same question as well.

"I believe so. If you think it's a good idea, Teddy," Draco smiled slightly.

"Yes! Stay, stay! Hawy has lots of rooms. Let's go pick one!" He jumped off the couch and pulled Draco and Harry up as well, holding both of their hands as they went up the stairs.

Harry's breathing was shallow as he remembered the last time Draco slept over. The quick rejection to Harry's kiss and the horrible goodbye in the morning. He really hoped nothing like that would happen again, because he didn't think his ego could take it.

_Well, that's simple enough to solve—just don't flirt with him, dimwit, _the voice in Harry's head said. He silently reminded the voice how attractive Draco was, and how it was probably impossible to _not_ flirt with him.

_Pretend like he's not attractive. It's only going to hurt you in the end, _the voice said.

Harry swallowed thickly as he watched the sunlight streaming in from a window hit Draco's blonde hair and make it shine almost angelically. Harry was pretty sure not even the best actor in the world could pretend that Draco was unattractive.

"This is my room," Teddy said in excitement, opening the door with his small hands and going into the room that adjoined Harry's. He ran and jumped onto his green bed, his hair blending back into Harry's dark black colour.

"Oh, you can have this one!" Teddy jumped up and down, running into the room down the hall, where Draco had slept the last time he came. "It's right next to mine. When Hawy tells bedtime stowies at night, you can come too. Hawy tells the best stowies. The best, best, best."

Harry smirked as Teddy gave a soft yawn and walked over to him, picking the boy up.

"I think it's time for your nap, Teddy bear."

"Nah. No nap. I'm not sleepy. I want to play with Draco!" He squirmed in Harry's arms as he carried him back to his room.

"We can play in the evening. You're tired right now," Harry said, pulling off Teddy's sweater and shoes. He put the boy in bed, and felt Draco staring at him from the doorway.

"Can we play in the snow? Please, please, please?" Teddy begged, pulling the blanket up to his chin and looking up at Harry with those big brown eyes. "I want to show Draco my snow angel."

"You can show me in the evening, Teddy," Draco said suddenly, coming in and standing next to Teddy's bed, his arms crossed, as if he were still slightly uncomfortable. But the look on his face when he stared down at Teddy was still soft. "I can't wait to see it."

"Okay! You'll make one too, right?"

"Er, yes," Draco nodded once. Harry looked up in surprise, but Draco was still watching Teddy. "If you take your nap now, I'll make one as well."

"Okay, okay. Nap time." Teddy snuggled into the bed, and Harry leaned down to kiss his forehead, flicking his wand to shut off the lights and turn the fairy light in the corner on.

"You 'member not to close the door the whole way, Hawy," Teddy mumbled sleepily, clutching Lenny closer.

"You got it, Teddy bear," Harry said, leaving a sliver of the door open as usual.

"He still thinks there are monsters," he explained to Draco as they made their way back downstairs.

"He's so…" Draco paused, apparently trying to find the right adjective. "Adorable."

"He is, at that," Harry grinned. "Want some lunch?"

"Always the caretaker," Draco smiled. "I'm fine. I'll take some water, though."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, going into the kitchen. After he gave Draco a glass of water, he leaned against the counter and they stood in an awkward silence for a while. Flashes of Draco glaring at him and Hermione kept replaying in Harry's mind.

"I want to show you something," Draco said suddenly. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and handed a thin object to Harry, biting his lip.

Harry turned the thing over in his hands, realizing it was a chocolate frog card. The corners were bent, and there was a smudge on the words, but it was obvious who was featured on the card.

"Ron told me about this. It's the first time I've seen it," Harry said.

His own face grinned up at him from the card and when he turned it over again, the inscription was in gold lettering.

_Harry Potter_

_1980—Present_

_The Boy Who Lived, only known survivor of the Avada Kedavra curse and conqueror of Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Riddle. Harry Potter joined the Auror Department under Kingsley Shacklebolt at age 17, then quit and is currently President of the War Orphans Trust, a famous charity in London, England. Harry Potter is also now Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, in England, London. _

"I like how they make me sound like I'm not a failure," Harry laughed, handing the card back to Draco.

"You're not a failure…I found it this morning," Draco murmured, staring down at the card. "It made me want to come see you."

Harry swallowed, walking over to him. He was slightly taller than Draco by a few inches, and he felt the strange urge to curl the man into his arms. The inner voice told him not to, so he simply stood there, soaking in the heat of being close to a man in so long.

"I'm glad you came," Harry said softly after a few moments of quiet. "I didn't know what had happened to you, and I really didn't know how to contact you—"

"Harry," Draco interrupted him. "I'm sorry I didn't kiss you that night. I wanted to—really, I did—but I just…I didn't want you to feel obligated…"

"What? I started to kiss _you_, and why would I feel obligated?"

"Because of what I said about Blaise and the bad sex and everything," Draco muttered, still staring at Harry's neck instead of his face. Harry hesitantly put his hand under Draco's chin to make him look up.

"Trust me, I don't feel obligated to do anything. I feel like kissing you, so I'm going to kiss you. Are you going to let me this time?"

Draco swallowed, and Harry saw a flash of hesitation in the grey eyes before he nodded. Harry leaned down and watched as Draco's eyes fluttered close as he traced his lips on Draco's forehead, then nose, and sighed, putting his arms around Draco's narrow body.

"On second thought…I don't think we're ready for that, yet. And heaven knows if I kiss you once, I won't be able to stop," Harry said, his voice hoarse.

Draco was stiff for a moment in Harry's arms and then he slowly relaxed, putting his arms around Harry's back as well. He was all thin limbs and sharp angles, but Harry thought it may have been the best touch a man had given him. Especially when he felt Draco's heart beat thudding against him.

They stood there for a while, the soft hum of the refrigerator in the background and after a few minutes, Harry realized that Draco's body was shaking. He felt tears soak into his shirt and he clenched his teeth, pulling Draco as close as possible.

"I'm sorry," Draco was murmuring into Harry's chest. "I don't know why I'm crying. Like a snivelling Hufflepuff."

"You're exhausted and grieving. It's normal for you to cry, Draco. Hell, I cried for days after the War. I was so damn…_numb_ all the time. All those people, all those deaths. I felt like it was my fault…I mean, it's never going to stop hurting, but we just have to…live with it."

"I know I sound like a bloody firstie…but I miss her. And my dad. I just want to be three years old again, like Teddy. All innocent and pure—" He broke off as his body shook with soft sobs, and Harry ran his fingers through the blonde hair, the softness clinging to his fingertips.

"None of us are innocent and pure, Draco. The things we've seen… no one should've had to deal with that as kids. But now, we're safe. We have time to get over it, to just…live. That's why I quit the Aurors. I just felt like they were asking me to see more evil, to fight and win all the time. I was tired of fighting—I wanted to help people without having to see evil. It makes me selfish, I know, but I was just done with it."

Draco suddenly shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle and a few oddly endearing hiccups.

"You're the least selfish person I've ever met, Potter," he said, his fingers clutching at Harry's shoulder blades. "The epitome of a Gryffindor, through and through."


	5. Chapter 5

"No! I don't want to go inside yet!" Teddy shrieked and Harry pressed his fingertips to his temples. The headache was ever-building. "More snow time!"

"Teddy, that's enough snow time. And please stop yelling, my head is starting to hurt."

Teddy's temper tantrums were rare, but they seemed to happen when Harry was least expecting them.

"You're _so_ mean! I won't go inside, I won't! Draco, tell him!" The boy's hair lightened into bright blonde again, apparently trying to appeal to Draco.

The man turned away from his snowman and stared down at the boy clinging to his legs with a hopeful expression.

"Er, listen, Teddy. We can go inside now, and if you're good, I'm sure Harry will let you play tomorrow, won't you Potter?" Draco said, smirking at Harry.

"We'll see tomorrow, Teddy. Now, let's go inside! We've been out for a while, and you're going to catch a cold."

"No, no, no!" The boy started to run away as Harry tried to pick him up.

"Theodore Lupin!" Harry barked, his patience running short. "You come here right now, or so help me, I will take Lenny away for the whole night!"

Teddy stopped running around in circles and started crying, stomping his feet. Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before picking the boy up and carrying him inside.

"Wow, is that the 'Potter Scary Voice'? It sure had _me_ quaking in my boots!" Draco's sarcastic laugh caused Harry to grit his teeth as he closed the door.

He used the hand that wasn't carrying Teddy to pull off the boy's jacket and wet boots, and then hang his scarf and hat up. Draco followed suit, hanging up the heavy winter cloak that he borrowed from Harry.

"Teddy bear, please stop crying. I'm begging you," Harry grumbled, seating the boy in his chair at the dining table. "I'll make you some hot chocolate…"

"Hot chocolate!" The crying turned into a squeal of delight and he used the back of his hands to wipe his tears and snot away. Draco cringed at the gesture and Harry bit down a laugh.

Harry cleaned Teddy's face and sat him down in front of his Quidditch action figures before he started to make hot chocolate, in which Draco watched silently with a calculating look in his eyes.

"It's not Ancient Runes, Draco—just hot chocolate. No need to study it," Harry smirked.

Draco walked over to him, using a finger to pick up some of the foam and lick it almost curiously. Harry's eyes nearly crossed at the gesture.

"Maybe I wasn't studying the drink—just you making it," Draco said casually, but the heat in his eyes told Harry that his thoughts weren't as casual.

"Yeah? Did you enjoy my techniques?" Harry asked huskily, placing his hand on Draco's narrow hip. He didn't know where Draco's sexy attitude was coming from after the hesitation from earlier in the day, but he knew he didn't want to risk losing the chance.

"No, I just enjoy seeing you so _domestic_. It turns me on to see the Saviour of the Wizarding World cook for me," Draco shrugged, throwing his own smirk at Harry.

"Great," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Next time, wear an apron for me, yeah?" Draco bit his lip and looked up through his light eyelashes, and Harry felt soft fingertips trace his ribcage.

"Where is this coming from? You were hesitant to kiss me earlier today," Harry blurted out. He blushed after realizing what he'd just said out loud.

Draco simply smiled. "Being back here…you do things to me, Mr. Potter." He shrugged and Harry's heart stuttered with an emotion he couldn't place. "I'd like to see where this could go…"

"You're such a tease, Malfoy. I _hate_ it when people tease," Harry growled, his hand tightening on the man's hip.

"Really? That's too bad… I love teasing," he grinned tilting his head to the side, a challenge if Harry had ever seen one.

"Of course you do. The epitome of Slytherin, through and through," Harry replied.

Draco leaned his head back and laughed, his whole body going into the gesture. Harry stared, mesmerized by the lightness of Draco's laugh—it was nearly enough to erase the memories of his sneers and jaunts back at Hogwarts. That one laugh was enough to make Harry want to lean him over the counter and—

"What's so funny?" A loud voice interrupted his thoughts. Harry turned and saw that Teddy was kneeling on the back of the couch was staring at them in curiosity.

Harry let go of Draco immediately, shock running through him. He couldn't believe he had just contemplated shagging Draco with Teddy in the next room, _right there_.

"Harry was being extraordinarily amusing, Teddy," Draco replied, still chuckling.

Harry cracked a smile when he felt the fingers on his ribs tighten before Draco let go.

"Finish up with that hot chocolate, already, oh Saviour," Draco winked at him, turning away and heading towards the living room and sitting next to Teddy.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his rattled nerves. Hermione was right—Draco always did tend to bring out a side of Harry that no one understood.

"Hawy, can I eat Wonka chocolate too?"

"Harry, do Muggles normally dress like that?"

"Can I have a squirrel? Please, please, please!"

"Oh Merlin! Are those ugly little Oompa Loompa things real? I've never heard of them!"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, the headache returning from earlier. They were watching _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,_ one of the Muggle DVDs he had. He sat on the couch with Teddy sitting in his lap and Draco leaning against him, and they both _would not_ stop asking him questions.

"Yes, Teddy, I will get you Wonka chocolate…no, you can't have a squirrel. You remember what happened to that turtle—I just don't think you're responsible enough to have a pet right now…No, Draco, Muggles do not normally dress like Willy Wonka. He's just odd—and no, Oompa Loompas are not real."

The rest of the movie was filled with more insistent questions from the both of them, and Harry nearly wept with joy once the movie was over.

"That was the bestest movie ever! Can we watch it again tomorrow?" Teddy asked excitedly, jumping up and nearly falling off the couch. Harry caught him lightly and stood up, turning off the TV.

"We'll see, Teddy bear. I'm going to go warm up the spaghetti I made last night, why don't you and Draco—" Harry was interrupted when his Floo suddenly roared and he heard a voice coming from the fireplace.

"Floo!" Teddy shrieked happily. "Yay!"

"Teddy, there's no need to shout," Harry sighed, leaning over the fireplace. He was surprised to see Ron's face grinning at him from the fire.

"Harry, you'll never guess what happened at work today—I'm coming over, yeah?" Ron was saying excitedly before his head vanished.

"Wait, what? No, Ron, wait!" Harry's eyes widened as he shook his head frantically. "You can't come over!"

"Why not?" He said, poking his head back in. "You're not on a date or anything, right? I thought Teddy was over."

"He is, and no, I'm not on a date. I mean—er," Harry stuttered, looking back at the couch.

Draco was staring at him through wide grey eyes, obviously not knowing what to do.

"I'll go upstairs, it's fine—" Draco was saying, standing up, and backing away from the fireplace.

"Wait, no—" Harry tried to say.

"Yeah, then, just hold up for a second!" Ron said, and before Draco could leave the room, the tall man was Floo-ing in and climbing out of the fireplace with soot shaking off of him and was still speaking.

"Anyway, we were in training this morning, and—" he stopped abruptly, looking up from the soot on his clothes and seeing Draco standing against the doorway of the living room.

"What the— _Malfoy?_" Ron suddenly gasped, pulling his wand from his sleeve.

"Ron, no!" Harry yelped, grabbing his best friend's arm. "Don't—"

"What the hell is he _doing_ here?" Ron was saying, staring at Malfoy angrily.

"Oh come now, Weasley. Aren't we past boyhood rivalries?" Draco sneered, crossing his arms and staring back at Ron. Harry was almost sad to see the sneer back—it had been gone for a while.

"Unca Ron!" Teddy suddenly cheered, running to Ron and hugging his knees. This broke Ron's glare as he looked down at Teddy in surprise. "What does 'hell' mean?"

Harry groaned. Andromeda was going to kill him for that.


	6. Chapter 6

"Seriously? And you're just going to believe that crap?" Ron whispered angrily, his cheeks flushing. He shot a glare at Draco, who was sitting on the dining table with his back towards the kitchen, eating spaghetti with Teddy.

Harry crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"Yes, Ron, I do believe him. I saw him with my own eyes—he fainted from hunger in my living room. You can't fake that," Harry whispered back, a glint of anger in his own voice.

"I don't believe it. No way could freakin' Malfoy be starved. And besides, why would he have come back after he left? You gave him what he wanted—the wand—and now why is he back?"

"Oh, I dunno—maybe for my illustrious company?" Harry smirked. "I'm quite unforgettable, you know."

"Damn, Harry, you're just going to let him live here? For how long? Until you get him a job, and then what? He'll repay you by leaving, or worse—sending his ex-Death Eater buddies your way."

"Ron, come on—I told you, he's different. We've grown up, and he's not like that anymore."

"What the—you're serious? He's a bloody Malfoy! Look, if you really need a boyfriend, there are other people out there, and we can find someone—"

"Ron! Shut up for a second!" Harry growled. "I am _not_ desperate for a boyfriend! And hell, I don't even know if Draco and I are—no, okay. The point is I'm not letting him stay just because I'm attracted to him. I'm giving him a second chance, I think he deserves it."

"Man, what_ever_. I don't understand this one bit. If you just let me check you for Imperius—"

"I am _not_ under Imperius! Look, I told Hermione about it a while ago, why don't you go talk to her—she'll explain more."

"Like hell am I leaving you alone with the freak—"

"Ron, I am two seconds away from smacking you," Harry said irritably. "You are my best friend, and I get that you're worried—but chill out, okay? I can handle myself!"

"Harry," Draco called. He stood up from the table and walked towards them, stopping next to Harry. "Why don't you go and feed Teddy? I'm not very good at that. Weasley and I will talk."

"Don't bother, Malfoy, you may have tricked Harry, but I don't believe a word of—"

"Look, Weasley, I'm not trying to trick anyone. I first only came for the wand, but Harry and I… we got along much better, and we're trying to work past—"

"Don't you dare say you're trying to 'work past your differences'," Ron snarled. "You nearly got us all killed, you poisoned me! And you tried to Crucio Harry—"

"Like I said, we're getting along much better now," Draco smirked. Harry rolled his eyes—neither man was going to stop disliking the other on base instinct.

"Harry, tell me you're joking with this. Tell me you are not letting that ferret stay in your house—"

"Ron, please. Just relax, and think of it logically. I'm doing what I feel is right," Harry said gently.

"This is ridiculous," Ron shook his head. "I can't believe you."

He brushed past Harry and walked towards the dining table, leaning down to kiss Teddy's now-blazing-red hair and threw a last disapproving glance at Harry. With that, he went back to the Floo and left with the green flames.

"That went better than I expected," Draco said, shrugging and going back to the dining table. Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and then following him.

"Hawy, why did Unca Ron leave without eating misagetti with us?" Teddy asked, slurping more noodles into his mouth as he spoke.

"Uncle Ron had some work to do, Teddy. And remember, it's called Spa-ge-ti?"

"That's what I said! Misagetti!" Teddy rolled his eyes and continued making an absolute mess of his dinner.

"Yes, Harry, that's what he said," Draco laughed, taking a bite of spaghetti. It was _that_ laugh again, the one that made Harry inexplicably warm inside. "By the way, Teddy, I think your hair looks much better with my colour or even Harry's than that red-head nonsense."

"Okie dokie," Teddy shrugged, his hair tinting darker to match Harry's once again.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day was a Sunday, so after a full breakfast, the three boys of Grimmauld Place were lying in the living room on the soft carpet and coloring pictures, one of Teddy's favorite pastimes.

"Look! I made a ducky. He's playing with Lenny, see?" Teddy gestured at his portrait.

"Oh, really? I didn't know ducks had green feet, Teddy," Harry laughed as he pulled the box of crayons closer to him and grabbed the brown to finish up his broomstick.

"Well, they do now." Teddy shrugged. "Oooh! Is that Dwaco playing Quidditch, Unca Hawwy?"

"What?" Draco looked up and quickly snatched up Harry's drawing.

"Yes. I remember it like it was yesterday," Harry smirked, staring at Draco fondly. "You were so good-looking…"

He watched as Draco's cheeks began to turn pink as he fought a blush and gave the drawing back.

"You draw horribly, Potter. That picture does not do justice."

"You aren't much better, Malfoy," he replied, sneaking a look at the other's picture, a landscape of the Manor.

"Oh shut it. I want some hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate!" Teddy squealed, throwing his crayons down and standing up.

"Great, you just _had_ to get him started, huh?" Harry shook his head at Draco before making to stand up. His spine popped and he groaned.

"Old man," Draco laughed, pushing himself off the ground smoothly and almost cat-like. Harry's mind immediately went to how flexible and graceful the man would be in bed.

"Unca Hawwy! Hot chocolate!" Teddy's voice brought Harry's mind out of the gutter and back to the kitchen.

As Teddy played with his action figures on the table, Harry stood at the stove, stirring the hot chocolate mix. He suddenly felt two thin arms wrap around his torso, and a pair of cold lips on his shoulder. Harry sighed into Draco's embrace and leaned back.

"I'm telling you…this domesticity is just driving me crazy hot," Draco whispered, his lips trailing to Harry's neck and ear.

"Draco…not with Teddy around," Harry's voice was almost a whimper as Draco's fingers trailed down his chest softly.

Harry wondered where this new confidence came from, considering how hesitant Draco was to even kiss him the day before. He wondered if maybe Draco was slowly thawing himself around Harry.

"I can wait…I'm very patient." Draco dragged a finger across Harry's abdomen underneath his jumper, causing Harry to shudder violently. From a simple touch!

"I don't think _I _can wait—"

Harry was interrupted by the doorbell ringing and he jumped, dropping the spoon that was stirring the hot chocolate.

"You can go get it, I'll pour this," Draco said, leaning down to pick up the spoon that had fallen. Harry walked towards the door, looking back once at Draco's jean-clad bum. He smiled before heading out and opening the door.

"Oh Andromeda, hello." Harry gestured to the woman, opening the door further to let her in.

"Hello Harry," she smiled softly before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Nana! Nana's here!" Teddy came running in, holding his action figures. "Nana guess what happened? Dwaco is here, and he's my cousin! And he made a snowman with me and drawed pictures with me and was hugging Unca Hawwy!"

Harry felt the blood drain from his face as Draco entered the room. Andromeda was staring at him in shock, her only other living relative.


	8. Chapter 8

"Draco Malfoy…" Andromeda said softly, looking at him from the doorway. "Harry, what is Draco Malfoy doing in your house?"

"Andromeda, come in, please. We can talk in the living room—"

"No need," she said with a stiff tone. "Talking can be done now—here."

"Er, I, well…he's—" Harry stuttered before he was interrupted.

"Aunt Andromeda," Draco suddenly said, bowing his head and walking towards her. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet."

"I…no, I suppose we have not." She shook her head. "I always told myself I never wanted to meet you."

Draco sighed, looking away and Harry's heart went out to him.

"But, it was always a lie," Andromeda said softly. "Of course, I was always curious…a nephew, of my own."

Looking up in surprise, Draco's eyes widened and Harry picked up Teddy.

"Can we talk in the living room now?" Harry insisted.

"Yes…I suppose we can," she sighed, walking past everyone and into the living room. "No reason to hate a boy for what his parents have done."

"Did you hear that?" Draco whispered nervously, turning to Harry. "She said she doesn't hate me!"

"I know she doesn't. She's not like that," Harry smiled. "Go on, go talk to her."

"I…what do I say? I've never even met my own aunt before…" Draco shook his head. "Two relatives—her and Teddy."

"See? You're not alone," Harry said softly, kissing Draco on the cheek.

Draco blushed in surprise and nodded. "Okay. I'll go talk to her."

He turned and went into the living room, his stride still just as Malfoy-like as ever.

"Unca Hawy? What's going on?" Teddy asked, squirming in Harry's arms again.

"Family issues, Teddy bear. You're lucky you aren't old enough for that yet," Harry laughed.

"I was always in the middle," Andromeda sighed, sipping at her tea. "Bellatrix lorded over us as the elder sister, and Narcissa was the baby of the family—always got what she wanted. I spent a lot of time with friends, and with Sirius…we were _different_ then the rest of them. We actually _liked_ Muggles, believe it or not!"

She laughed in a bitter sort of way, and Harry watched as Draco blushed again.

"Mother and Father—Merlin, the second they heard I was in love with Ted, they kicked me out. Ted and I—we did all right, considering everything. We worked in a bookshop then bought it after a few years. Nymphadora was born…everything was good again, I had a family. But my sisters—they never did forgive me for it. I suspect Bellatrix just hated me after that. Narcissa though…she had lost her sister. She sent me a letter, you know. The night you were born."

Draco looked up, his teacup rattling slightly in shock. "She…she never told me."

"Yes. She sent me a letter, telling me about you—how happy she was that you were born. She asked for my blessing, and I…I was foolish—a stupid, grave mistake. I regret it very much," Andromeda sighed, pulling out a small handkerchief and wiping at her eyes. "I was hurt and I didn't respond to her letter, and it's the last time she ever acknowledged my presence."

"I never knew that happened," Draco said softly.

They all sat in silence for a while. Teddy was in the living room watching _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ again while Andromeda, Harry and Draco were sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea.

"Yes, well. I can remedy that now, I suppose," Andromeda chuckled. "She asked for a blessing for her newborn son. I'll simply bless you 21 years late."

Draco smiled softly and Harry's heart warmed at the gesture.

"Thank you. I do have a question though," Draco said, biting his lip. "Do you have any objection to me spending time with Teddy? I'd like to get to know my cousin. You both are the only living relatives I have."

"I don't have any objections to you seeing Teddy," she said, looking over fondly at her grandson. "He needs all the family he can get. Draco—do you like to read?"

"Er," Draco looked up at the unexpected question. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"Your mother was _very_ fond of reading. She had hundreds of books, if I remember correctly. I was wondering if it had passed on to you."

"Yes, I think it did," Draco nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"Well… Ted had that same love of reading. The real reason he was working in that bookshop and then bought it. It's actually running very well these days, though I've given the reigns over to a close friend of mine to handle, since I take care of Teddy. I do believe Michael said he was looking to hire a new employee. I'll talk to him and you can start tomorrow, probably."

Draco put his teacup down and Harry grinned.

"A job? In a bookstore?" Draco asked.

"Yes, unless it's too small—"

"No, no," Draco shook his head vehemently. "That would be… Andromeda, that would be perfect. I don't know how to thank you…"

"No need. I'm doing it for your Mother," she sighed. "Bless her soul…a sad thought that I'll never see my baby sister again."

"Yes…she seemed to miss you a lot too." Draco bit his lip.

"At least you have each other now," Harry said softly. "And Teddy."

"Yes, we have Teddy," Draco grinned.

"What about me?" Teddy looked up from his movie, running over as he heard his name.

"I was saying that I need to get you home, dear," Andromeda laughed, standing up. "Come along; let's leave Harry and Draco alone now."

Harry and Draco looked at each other in surprise.

"Oh, we, uh—"

"We're not—" 

"Oh hush you two," Andromeda chuckled. "I may be old, but I still know lust when I see it."

Both Harry and Draco blushed furiously and bid Andromeda and Teddy goodbye, promising to see them tomorrow.

"That was weird…" Harry laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"Very," Draco raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize how palpable our…_lust_ was."

Gulping, Harry looked around, realizing that Draco and he were really alone. No Hermione or Teddy or anyone else… just him and Draco.

"Well, you have a job now, so that's good. See? Everything worked out just fine! Do you wanna do something? I, er, could put in a movie? Or, we could go do something outside—go out to eat? I know this nice place on 5th—"

"Harry," Draco interrupted Harry's nervous rambling. He leaned closer and put his arms on Harry's shoulders. "Will you shut up and kiss me?"

Harry swallowed again and closed his eyes, leaning in and touching his lips to Draco's. They were so soft—just like Harry knew they'd be. What he hadn't expected was how _amazing_ it would feel. Draco's mouth opened to Harry and they both kissed like they were starving. They devoured each other's tastes and their hands roamed to find new curves, soft hair and even softer skin.

"Draco," Harry gasped, coming up for air as if he'd been drowning. "You…wow."

"Hmm, same reaction here," Draco exhaled. "Come here."

They kissed as they walked back into the living room, and Draco pulled Harry down, sitting in his lap on the sofa.

Harry groaned suddenly as their groins met and Draco gasped.

"Fuck," Harry moaned, pulling Draco down harder. Their innocent snog turned into a rather frenzied passion, pulling off shirts and claiming each other with bites to the neck.

Suddenly, the roar of the Floo-fire awakened them from their frenzy, and they both looked towards the fireplace where Ron's head was floating in the green flames.

"Excuse me. I'll call back later. After I'm done throwing up for hours."

He popped back out of the fireplace and Harry and Draco looked at each other, taking their ravaged appearances. They both burst out in laughter—the look on Ron's face was priceless.

"I think that was the funniest expression I've ever seen on Weasley's face," Draco laughed, still straddling Harry's lap. "Even better than the slugs!"

"I can't believe we almost just shagged on the sofa," Harry sighed, coming down from his laughter. He leaned his head back against the wall as Draco climbed off his lap.

"Right. I guess we shouldn't—you're the good one here—we should get to know each other first, and—"

"Draco, I wasn't saying we shouldn't shag!" Harry looked at him in surprise.

"Oh…you're not?"

"No—definitely not. We should shag—just not on the sofa."

"What's wrong with the sofa? It seems perfectly sturdy," Draco smirked.

"Not for our first time," Harry shook his head. "I want it to be special—you know, candles, bedroom and roses…"

"Oh," Draco paused, blushing again. "You romantic Gryffindor."

"Yes, I am," Harry smiled. "I'm going to woo you on a spectacular dinner date first. And _then_ we can have a romantic shag—in my bed."

"If you must," Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry could tell from the warm look in his grey eyes that he was secretly pleased.


	9. Chapter 9

"All of _your_ clothes are so…ugh," Draco frowned, looking through Harry's closet. "I can't go to _Sapristi_ in any of these."

"Draco, I told you—we could just go shop for your clothes. It's not a big deal," Harry sighed, sitting on his bed. Once Draco had found out that they were going to the famous French restaurant, he had been in constant worry of his wardrobe. Or lack thereof. Harry had told him he was welcome to anything in his closet, but apparently that didn't work either.

"You can't just offer to buy me clothes, Potter. No pity party, remember?"

Standing up, Harry went over to where Draco was and put his arms around him. "I'll let you pick my clothes too. So that you won't be embarrassed to be seen with my hideous clothes."

Draco laughed, leanings his head back against Harry's shoulder. "Embarrassed to be seen with the Great Harry Potter? Is that even possible? You should worry about being seen with the Former Death Eater—"

He suddenly gasped, turning around. "Harry, I didn't even think about that! You can't be seen with me! The papers would go crazy, everyone would know about it—"

"Stop." Harry placed a finger on Draco's soft lips. "No. I don't know if you know this about me, but I really don't care what the papers have to say about me or who I'm with. I'm taking you out to dinner because _I _want to. I like you, and if they want to go crazy, they can fuck themselves. Okay?"

"Okay… I wonder if Madam Malkin still has my measurements," Draco shook his head, chuckling. "I have lost some weight though. Just skin and bones…"

He sighed, looking down at himself sadly and Harry's gut clenched.

"You're gorgeous, Draco," Harry whispered, pulling him in for a kiss.

Draco was looking around nervously, over his shoulder and around the restaurant as if he expected someone to jump out at him.

"Draco, relax. I told you—I don't care what they think. You shouldn't either," Harry said softly, putting his hand over Draco's.

He shrugged and nodded, his eyes still darting around as he took a sip of his wine.

"You ordered the perfect wine," Harry said, trying to distract him. "It tastes really good."

"I'm a Malfoy. Of course I ordered the perfect wine," Draco rolled his eyes, finally looking directly at him.

"What does being a Malfoy have to do with knowing about wine?" Harry asked, confused.

"We used to own several vineyards in France. Obviously, father let them go and sold them once the War started. We didn't have time for that. But before, when I was a bit younger—I was trained in wine-tasting and other proprieties."

"Proprieties? Like what?"

"Oh, you know." Draco waved his hand in dismissal. "Piano, literature, foreign language, ballroom dancing, nutrition basics, finance and business, stuff like that."

Harry stared at Draco in wonder. He never knew that Draco would be well-versed in those things.

"What?" Draco asked defensively.

"You know how to play the piano? And ballroom dance?"

"Yes," Draco shrugged. "Most of my friends did. In fact, Crabbe was rather excellent at Piano. Oh, and Goyle had a knack for painting."

"I…" Harry was in shock. "I never knew any of that. I just thought you were all pig-headed snotty rich kids who didn't do much other than bully kids and—"

"I get the point," Draco said dryly.

They stopped conversing when the waiter came to take their food order. Harry ordered some sort of fish dish and Draco ordered something un-pronounceable to Harry.

"Oh, _Je vous remercie__.__Pourriez__-vous__nous apporter un peu__plus__de vin__?_" Draco said to the waiter in a perfect French accent. The man nodded, writing something down on his notepad and leaving.

"You know French?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Yes. I chose French as my foreign language when we were younger…something about it just seems so _sensual_," Draco smirked.

"I'll say," Harry muttered, gulping down his wine. Hearing Draco speak French was like someone whispering something erotic and dirty in his ear during sex—an instant turn-on. "What did you say to him?"

"Oh, I was just thanking him. And telling him to bring more wine," Draco shrugged. "I'm a bit rusty—haven't spoken it in ages."

Once their food arrived, the conversation continued, drifting from each man as they reacquainted themselves. Or better yet—met each other. It was like the six years that Harry had gone to school with the man were erased. This was someone new—someone who could say and do amazing things.

"You can't do that," Harry shook his head.

"You don't believe me?" Draco's eyes widened.

Harry grinned. "Nope. Prove it."

"In the middle of a restaurant?" Draco sighed, picking up a cherry from their dessert. "Fine."

He picked the stem off and put it in his mouth, moving his lips around sensually. Harry's eyes widened comically as Draco finally pulled the stem out, and it was tied in a perfect knot.

"Merlin," Harry breathed. "Draco Malfoy just tied a cherry knot. Wow… I knew you were a good kisser, but you must be _really_ good with your tongue."

Draco's eyebrow rose as a smirk painted his lips. "Just watch, Harry. I can do things that you'd never _believe_."

"Oh yeah?" Harry breathed, knowing that they weren't talking about playing the piano. "Like what?"

"Take me home and I'll show you."

Harry paid the bill and they Apparated home before any reporters even found out they had been there.

Kissing Draco was like taking a drug, Harry had decided. Each and every kiss just made you want it more and more until you were ready to go insane.

They were lying in Harry's bed, only their boxers left. They're clothes and shoes were scattered around the house, and once they had gotten to the bedroom, they had collapsed on the bed, snogging the breath out of each other.

"Want…you, _now_," Draco hissed, pulling at Harry's hair.

"Draco," Harry whispered, kissing down his chest. "Speak some French for me, baby."

"_Tu es si__merveilleuse__.__vous êtes__sexy__et__brillante__et je__te veux tellement__ça fait mal_," Draco gasped as he writhed on the bed in the sexiest way Harry had ever seen.

At the erotic sounding French, Harry moaned. Draco could've been speaking about bat bogey hexes for all he cared—it still sounded so damn good coming from him. Pulling Draco's pants down, Harry bit his lip as he finally saw Draco's cock, standing erect.

"So amazing," Harry murmured. Taking his cock into his mouth slowly, Harry hummed in pleasure. He hadn't been with a man in so long, and being with _this_ man was beyond perfect.

"Merlin, _Harry_, yes!" Draco nearly arched off the bed in attempt to get more into Harry's mouth.

All the sexual tension of the last few days seemed to heighten in Harry, and he sucked Draco's cock thoroughly, but let go before Draco could come.

"I know you can tie a cherry knot, but guess what _I_ can do with my tongue?" Harry asked sneakily before pulling Draco's legs up and placing his tongue steadily underneath Draco's balls.

"_Harry!_" Draco shouted, bucking as Harry entered his tongue into him. Slowly, he worked one, then two fingers in as well, and before long, Draco was a quivering, panting mess on the bed.

Hearing Draco's continuous whining, Harry crawled back up and pulled Draco above him. "Ride me, love."

"What?" Draco looked down at Harry nervously. "I, um—"

"I want _you_ to be able to control it. If it hurts, or if you want something different, then this way you can do it," Harry insisted.

Draco's eyes softened as he leaned down and kissed Harry softly. "I know that you're trying to help, because of what I said about Blaise. I…thank you."

With that, Draco slid onto Harry like a glove—a perfect, tight, hot glove that Harry had to restrain himself from pulsing into. Making sure to keep still as Draco got accustomed to his dick, Harry clenched the bed sheets and bit his bottom lip harshly.

"Okay. I can do this," Draco mumbled. Harry looked up in awe of the perfect sight—Draco's eyes were full of lust and concentration, and he clenched his muscles around Harry's cock, making him jump.

"Draco," Harry gasped, clenching his eyes shut in pleasure.

Suddenly, Draco started to _move_. He pushed himself up and then quickly lowered himself, effectively riding Harry like no other—it felt like heaven.

Then, he slowed down sinfully and started to roll his hips, driving Harry insane as he felt his cock encased in heat only to be removed just as quickly.

"Come on, Potter. Fuck me," Draco whispered in a challenge, leaning down and licking a long stripe from Harry's collarbone to his ear.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He held onto Draco's hips in a bruising grip and bucked up, fucking him from underneath and taking everything that Draco had to offer.

"_Harry_," Draco moaned, throwing his head back.

Body seizing in pleasure, Harry came with a shout, seeing stars and only barely noting that Draco came a second later, splashing himself over Harry's chest.

Gasping for breath, they both lied next to each other as they came down from their high, and Harry felt a buzz of familiar warmth curl around him. He turned and threw an arm around Draco, even though they were both still sticky from sweat and come.

"That was the best I've ever had," Harry whispered, his throat raw from the shouting and some other emotion he couldn't place.

"Me too," Draco smiled. "Obviously."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, sheets and limbs tangled as they curled into each other.


	10. Chapter 10 epilogue

"I still don't like you," Ron grumbled, taking out a bag full of galleons to pay for his book. "But since you helped me out with this, I suppose I can deal with you hanging around Harry."

"Oh my! I feel so accepted and loved!" Draco said sarcastically, putting a hand to his heart and rolling his eyes.

Harry laughed, watching the exchange. It had been a week since Draco had started working in the bookshop, and so far, he loved it. He really liked being able to work a scheduled time and keep all the books organized. Michael—the shop's manager—had really taken a liking to him, claiming that he was just like Draco when he was younger. Devilishly handsome and very sneaky. Harry had barked out at laughter at that, and Draco had smacked him upside the head.

Today, Ron had come in, looking for a book for Hermione since their anniversary was coming up. With Draco's help, he had gotten the perfect book, and was now seemingly getting used to the idea of Harry dating Draco.

"Did you hear that, Harry? Ronald is in love with the idea of us! He thinks we should get married!" Draco snickered.

"Shut up, you sodding prat. I'm leaving. You both better be there for dinner tonight, or Hermione will kill you."

As Ron left the store, Harry walked over and put his arms around Draco.

"Harry, not at work," Draco blushed, looking around at the customers.

"It's okay—I know the owner," Harry smirked. "Come now, love. Can I at least get a kiss before I leave for practice?"

Draco rolled his eyes but smiled and leaned into Harry, giving him a long, sweet kiss.

"Another for luck?" Harry asked, opening his eyes.

"Why do you need luck? It's just practice! Besides, no amount of good luck can make the Cannons win, Harry."

"I don't care about the Cannons, I just want another kiss," Harry laughed, pulling Draco in again.

"Ha_rry_," Draco whined, pushing Harry away slightly. "Save it for when we get home!"

"Okay, okay, I'll just have to wait," Harry sighed. "Plus Teddy is coming over today, so there goes our sex for the weekend too."

"Don't pout—I'm the only one who can do that. How about this? If you can hold out, I'll make it worth your while."

"Oh yeah? What do I get?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll speak French all night long… I've been practicing, and I've even learned a few more words that you'd find... appetizing," Draco grinned.

"Damn, Draco, I'm _starving_ for you."


End file.
